


And she said use your hands and my spare time

by Dylanobrienisbatman



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellamy likes to praise her, But we all knew that, Canon Compliant, Chair Sex, Clarke needs orgasms and I am going to (make bellamy) give them to her, F/M, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Life-Affirming Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Frustration, Table Sex, bellamy is a talker, bellamy is very giving, bellamy just wants to give her what she needs, no mention of b/cho directly but they're still together i just dont care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 10:37:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14913806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dylanobrienisbatman/pseuds/Dylanobrienisbatman
Summary: Six years was a long time alone, but one thing that came from it was that Clarke Griffin had gotten very good at getting herself off. She had always imagined dark hair, freckles, broad shoulders, but now that he was back her body was rebelling. It knew what she really wanted and refused to settle. When she stumbles on Bellamy in her attempts to get out of her own brain a little, all pent up and frustrated, it's the least he can do to offer to help. She just has to tell him what she needs.





	And she said use your hands and my spare time

Clarke wanted to cry from frustration and irritation. The tension in her body was ricocheting between every cell, building up and staying just behind the lines, never quite letting her spill over into release.

She had spent 6 years perfecting her technique. She knew exactly what she liked, exactly where her fingers needed to go, with how much pressure for a long slow build and how quick they needed to move against her clit for a fast orgasm when there was no time for anything more. She had found her groove, and was excellent at it. She had had nothing but time for practice, after all. But tonight, whatever it was that was bouncing around inside her head was putting her just out of reach of that warm wash of calm that she needed. She yanked her hands out of her underwear in anger, hot tears filling her eyes. If everything else had to be different, why couldn’t she at least keep this one thing. Madi was lost to Octavia’s clutches, and somehow, even though she was surrounded by hundreds of people, she felt more alone than she had in years. She yanked her jeans back up, not bothering to zip them, and scrubbed her hands over her face.

If she had been in shadow valley, she’d go to her little pool, and let the waterfall beat down on her scalp and shoulders, massaging the tension away, letting the cool water wash over her hot skin, let the noise drown out her thoughts. But she wasn’t in Shadow Valley. She was in Polis, surrounded by enemies at every turn, and her friends were… somewhere else.

She had thought of going to them over and over again. Bellamy had tried to start conversation with her the day Madi fell into Octavia’s cult and she had blown him off, pulling into herself, hiding away. She didn’t go to them, and they didn’t come looking. She knew it was partially her fault, that she needed to make an effort, but she wasn’t even sure how. How do you start a conversation with someone who you know so intrinsically, but is somehow also a stranger? She flopped over onto her stomach, letting out an irritated groan. It had been ages since she’d been this pent up. And she knew why. When she closed her eyes she saw his face, tan, bearded, freckles flecked over his brown skin like stardust. Arms round and strong, shoulders broad, filing down to his waist in perfect form. Like some kind of statute of a perfect man. The thought of him sent warm shocks to her cunt. She couldn’t find release because her body knew what she really wanted, and it wasn’t her own fingers.

She groaned again.

She got up to wander, maybe walking around would take her mind off of the persistent edge that she found in herself. Going wandering might have done just that, if she hadn’t walked in on Bellamy.

Shirtless.

Doing pushups.

…Fuck.

She stood in the doorway of the room in the bunker he seemed to have commandeered, which smelled like sweat and his skin, his t-shirt thrown into a corner by the door, his jacket hanging over the chair, his boots chucked in the back corner, haphazard, in nothing but his heavy cargo pants, feet bare, torso shining, a table and chairs shoved clearly out of the way giving him the space he needed. The space was full of him, and she was mesmerised by it. She had spent years trying to remember what it was like to be surrounded by him in all the ways you could be. The sounds he made when he was irritated, the way he smelled, how he looked, the way he took up space in the world. Hell, even how he felt, just existing near her. She could always feel his presence, before she even saw it she could feel it. A room that was filled with him was her dream. She tried not to let her breathing come out in sharp bursts.

She stood, watching, as his shoulders pinched together on his back, muscles rippling under his skin, drops of sweat landing on the floor right beneath the tip of his nose as it came close but not quite making it to the ground. His breathing was coming in grunts, heavy and laboured, and every breath sent a pulse to her core. He stopped and sat back on his knees, and she didn’t have time to hide herself before his eyes found her. He looked shocked, and then immediately stilled himself, as if to avoid scaring her away.

“Hey…” his voice was low, coupled with the laboured breathing. He stood up careful, walking towards his water bottle. She couldn’t help following the movement of his arm as he brought the bottle to his mouth to drink. She licked her lips instinctually, like she’d be able to catch the falling droplets with her own tongue. She hoped he didn’t see.

“…Did you… need me for something?” What a weighted question. Her mind flashed back to seeing his face with her fingers on herself. She felt a flush creep up her neck.

“Nu-No. No i was just… I was. I don’t know.” She raised her arms almost in defeat, letting them flop back down by her side. He offered her the water bottle, and she crossed the room into his space to accept it, trying to ignore the way it feels when his fingers brush hers. This wasn’t helping that pent up build in her stomach. She tried to look away from his torso, directly at eye level.

“Did Raven and Echo get it done?”

“I’m not sure. Harper took over. I needed a break.”

“And this is a break?”

“Its been a rough week… I needed to relieve a little stress.” She knew that feeling, and half scoffed in agreement.

“Tell me about it.”

“You alright?” He grabbed his shirt and used it to wipe his face, chucking it back into the corner, and leaning against the wall near the door, looking at her.

“It’s just… been a lot. Everything and everyone and all of it. Madi is gone, things between us are… different and weird, there are so many people, you’re sister is a psycho and I can’t even fucking-“ She cut herself off, harsh. That comfort with him was innate, even when it was different between them, she could always speak to him. It was like her brain overrode her good sense to finally let her vent to the one person that she had always been able to vent too. He looked expectant, like he wanted her to finish her sentence.

“Can’t even…?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it. Its whatever.” She rolled her shoulders and crossed her arms, and felt her wrist brush against her unbuttoned jeans. She felt herself freeze up, and hoped he didn’t notice. But of course he noticed.

“Is… are you… is something wrong?” He was picking up on it, she could feel it. She tried to shove it back.

“Yeah, no i’m good. I’m just gonna go back to bed. I’ll see you.”

“Clarke, stop pushing me away for fucks sake.” She stilled.

“What?”

“Since i got back, i’ve tried to talk to you, more than once, and any mention of anything outside of the basics you freak out and run. I asked you about surviving alone and you told me about Madi and bolted. I tried to talk to you about Octavia and you ran away. And yeah, you were dealing with your own shit, but still. And don’t even tell me you were gonna tell me that you were trying to leave if you hadn’t seen me. You had made up your mind and hadn’t even thought to talk to me. And now were here, and i’m ASKING you whats wrong, and you’re just gonna bail? I don’t know what you want from me.” He leaned his head back against the wall, shutting his eyes. She let herself trace his features with her eyes, up the column of his neck, across the expanse of his tanned torso, around the thick muscles on his arms, down down down to the edge of his jeans.

“It’s… it’s not a big deal Bellamy, I don’t…”   
“Jesus Clarke, since when did we ever need it to be a big deal for us to talk about things?”

“Bellamy I ju-“ she felt the confession of it all rising in her throat, trying to shove it back down, but he was insistent, thinking it was something bigger than it was, wanting to comfort her. He wasn’t going to give up.

“You used to always want to talk to me, and now you’re just distant and we-“

“I JUST CANT GET MYSELF OFF AND IM IRRITATED AND PENT UP. OKAY? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED ME TO TELL YOU? WAS IT THAT NECESSARY THAT YOU KNOW THIS?”

His face was almost unreadable.

“Listen, I…. I just. I don’t know. Everything is insane right now and I’ve spent 6 years by myself and had very little problems with _that_ and then everything went to shit and I thought maybe that would still be the same but I just… can’t fucking get there and I don’t know why and I’m just… yeah.”

“you needed to relieve a little stress.” He chanted back his own words to her, but his voice was softer than she’d expected. It was soothing.

“Yeah… So i just… decided to wander around. get my mind off my problems… or whatever.” He nodded at her, but his eyes were dark and getting darker. He hadn’t moved from the wall, his stature hadn’t changed, but somehow he had taken on a bravado that was surprising.

They stood in silence for a minute, just watching each other. It just was, him standing there by the door, her standing sort of weirdly in the middle of the room near the table, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was charged. She wanted to say something, to tell him goodnight and wander back to her tent, to find her fingers on herself again with the image of his arms and his body covered in sweat, but she was frozen, watching him, watching him watch her. It felt promising in a way she hadn’t felt in years. Promising that felt like a live wire under her skin. Like she might catch fire in an instant if one of them didn’t do _something_.

He finally did something.

He didn’t move from the wall, but reached over, blindly, because his eyes never left her face, and swung the door closed, crossing his arms back in front of him again.

“What about-“ He cut her off.

“How long has it been since someone was good to you?” The question caught her by surprise.

“… Well… Niylah was… we… in the bunker before we opened the door. And before that not since Lexa.” He pressed his lips together, nodding his head, almost like he was contemplating.

“Right.” He hadn’t moved from he wall, but the tension in the room was physically tangible. She tried to ask the question again.

“What about-“

“Thats too long.” He cut her off again, and she wasn’t sure if he was doing it intentionally or if he was as much in his own brain as she was in that moment. But twice was enough to make her stop asking. If he didn’t care neither did she.

“Preaching to the choir there Bellamy.” He smirked at her, shaking his head.

The stood in silence again, for another moment. She was positive she was about to combust, but she didn’t move. As much as whatever seemed to be coming seemed to be for her in every way, it wasn’t her place to step in. Bellamy had to make that choice for himself. He stood still, leaning against the wall, in full contemplation, and she watched as he made the choice.

He pushed himself off the wall, and walked towards her, sliding past her at the last second to settle into one of the chairs, legs wide, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his hands hanging loosely between them, his shoulder tense towards his ears.

“Tell me what you want, Clarke.” The lust in his voice is at odds with his casual stature, but not with the darkness in his eyes. She let her eyes trail down his arms to his fingers, long and callused. She shot back up to his face quickly, trying not to give anything away. She wanted it. She wanted wanted _wanted_ whatever he was offering, but she was afraid to ask. Afraid to _need_. Afraid that it would happen just this once and her heart would break. But then her clit pulsed at the sound of his voice raking over her and talked her out of her own thoughts. She let her eyes find his hands again, and bit her lip, casting her eyes back up to his face, hoping it was enough.

“No no no, Clarke. Its been years since someone had their hands on you. I’m gonna give you exactly what you want, but you have tell me.” She wanted to roll her eyes at him, at his need to be so commanding in the moment, but it had been so long since someone had actually asked her what she wanted, and in this context it made her skin hot.

“I honestly don’t even know,” She started, and he opened his mouth to argue but she stepped closer, effectively shutting him up, “I want all of you.” She chose her words carefully. She didn’t want everything, she didn’t just want someones hands or someones mouth or someone warm, she wanted all of Bellamy. She thought she had probably always wanted all of him.

“You have me.” His voice was a whisper now, because she was so close, standing right in his space. He moved his arms and leaned back enough to let her find her space between his thighs, letting his hands rest on the backs of her own. Her arms hung loose by her side. She wanted to thread them into his hair, she wanted to kiss him, desperately, but she felt like every move she made had to be calculated, and every step forward had to be taken by him. That feeling only lasted another minute, because then he stood, without moving back, so close his entire body was pressed against hers, reached down and lifted her by her thighs, and settled back into the seat with her in his lap.

“You have all of me. But maybe some direction to start?” He was so close, her hands had fallen to his shoulders when he lifted her to catch herself, and his skin was sticky beneath her, and the heat radiating from him was almost suffocating, in an intoxicating way. She nodded.

“Your hands.” She could barely get the words out, and she was so close to him. “but…”

His hands had already drifted up her thigh towards her waistband, and he froze.

“I know this isn’t… I just…”

He raised his hands to her waist, his thumbs drawing small circles on her ribs. “What. Do. You. Need.”

“Kiss me.” She barely was able to pant it out, her whole body a live wire. She needed it in a way that was different than the way she needed an orgasm. She needed that connection. The look in his eyes was one of shock, just a flash of it, and then something warm took over the dark lust just a little. He nodded almost imperceptible, leaned in.

“Six years is too long to go without someone kissing you, Clarke Griffin.” He whispered, right against her mouth, and then he kissed her. At first it was soft, just letting herself be kissed, but then his hands came up to her neck and into her hair, and she opened her mouth a little at the feeling, and he took the chance and the kiss turned wet and dirty, quick. She barely knew what to do with her hands, bringing them to his cheeks and back to his shoulders and down to his arms, because she wanted to touch him but she felt like she barely remembered how. And just like always with Bellamy, he knew. He found her hands with his, and guided them down to his chest and around his back, letting her pull herself close, to feel his skin under her hands, while he wrapped one arm around her torso and let his other hand fish back into her hair, and just kissed her. She let herself feel it, be lost in it, just holding him close and letting him kiss her filthy. She almost let herself forget what they were really doing, until she rocked her hips a little against him, out of instinct and muscle memory of the way these things were supposed to go, and heard him groan against her mouth.

“You wanted hands?” He was husky against her and she trembled.

“I want _your_ hands.” she let herself say, barely cognisant of what she was even admitting. His breath caught in his throat, and he pushed her gently forward, a little away from him to get his hand between them, as he licked into her mouth again. He tugged at her waistband, and tried to find an angle where he could fit his fingers into her panties, but the space was too tight and the jeans were too tight and finally he huffed. He stood up, setting her back on her feet, watching her toe off her boots and tugging her jeans down around her ankles and off, tossing them into the corner. He took a second to walk away from her, clicking the lock on the door, before coming back and scooping her back up, kissing down her throat as he sat back down, sliding his hand down into her panties, tripping over her clit, urging a moan from her lips almost instantly.

“All pent up, and no one to help you. What a shame” He mouthed against her skin, the words sliding out of his mouth like silk. “So pretty, so _beautiful_ , and so pent up. I can’t believe you were all alone with no one to make you feel good for so long. I’ve got you baby, i’ve got you. Let me make you feel good.” She should have known he’d be a talker. Of course he was a talker. His fingers found a rough rhythm on her clit that had her whole body shaking, but it wasn’t right.

“circles.” She panted out, and she felt him grin against her skin, whispering "atta girl" into her neck, and fall into easy circles until she was shaking, and clenching at nothing and falling apart.

“So quick. Can’t believe it was that quick. You must have really needed it. So pent up, so pretty and pent up. Just needed a little help. Can't believe it's been so long since someone helped you.” He leaned her back a little to get a better angle, mouthing at her chest and let a finger find its way down her slit, and sliding it inside of her, gathering up all the wetness, making her keen. She waited for him to move, to do something, but he stayed still, sliding in a second finger and holding her close. She picked up on what he wanted, and rocked against his hand, back and forth, rolling. He pushed the base of his palm against her clit while she rocked, and she breathed heavy as it brought her closer and closer to another edge, while he whisper filthy things into her ear.

“So nice, so pretty, watching you give yourself what you need. All for you, Clarke, this is all for you. So good, so beautiful, so perfect, you feel so good around my fingers, you feel so good on my hand, just like that.” A stream of filth made her pulse against him, brought her lips to his pulse points because she needed something, needed more than just his hands and his words. It was almost embarrassing how quick he brought her over the edge again, crooking finger to massage the spot inside her that she could never quite reach until she fell apart, leaving his fingers inside her while she clenched around him, holding onto his skin while the aftershocks rolled through her body, mouthing into his shoulder.

“So good, Clarke. So good, is that what you needed.”

She wanted more, she needed more, but she didn’t want to ask. She just kept mouthing against his skin.

“You have to tell me what you need Clarke.”

“You. I need you. Just you.” She pulled his mouth back to hers, his fingers still inside her, biting into his lip. He slid his fingers out, slow, dragging them against her, sliding them over her clit, making her jump at the contact, and raising them to his mouth, licking the taste of her off of himself, making her whimper. The sound caught him off guard, his fingers still in his mouth, and he smirked around them.

“You like the idea of me tasting you Clarke? You like the idea of the taste of yourself on my tongue?” He took his wet fingers and slid them up her hips, the cold air catching on the wet, making her roll her hips against nothing, the open air between his thighs cold against the wet of her panties, whimpering against his neck. “You do. Is that what you want, Clarke? Do you want a mouth on you?” Again he seemed to not get it. This wasn’t just her need to get off. It was always about him.

“I need _your mouth_.” She repeated, almost imperceptible over the whine that escaped her lips. He started, again, like the last time, like he couldn’t quite believe the words coming out of her mouth. He lifted her again, back onto the table crowding down around her, kissing her soft. The kiss was enough to take her breath away, so easy and gentle, like he had waited his whole life to kiss her like this. It was the way you kissed someone you loved. Her heart was in her throat, because she _wanted wanted wanted_ it to be like this between them, to be soft and lovely like this between them, always. He kissed her like that for a while, until her lips were almost numb with it, and then he nipped into her bottom lip, and found a spot under her jaw that made her breath hitch, and followed down the column of her neck, down over her chest, lifting her tank top to lick down her stomach and over her hip bones, tugging her underwear down and off and throwing them over his shoulder, never taking his eyes of of her. He mouthed down her leg, coming to kneel in front of her, and finally getting his mouth over her heat. He licked into her, not gentle, curling his tongue around her clit over and over in a perfect rhythm, pulling away just when she would get close to lick into her with a long flat stripe, repeating the pattern over and over and over until she was trembling under him, just short of release. He finally sucked her clit between his lips, thrashing his tongue over the sensitive nub until her body lifted off of the table, her thighs closing around his head, holding him in place, rocking as he flattened his tongue against her, riding it out against him until her body was shaking and she let her legs fall open, tugging him up to kiss him again, licking the taste of him out of his mouth.

“Do you like that, princess? Do you like how you taste on me.” She groaned into his mouth in affirmation. “Are you all better now? Did you get what you needed? Not so pent up anymore, laying here like this. I bet you can barely walk, huh?”

  
“Should have known you’d be such a talker.”

“Should have known, huh? Did you imagine this Clarke? All by yourself down here for years, did you imagine me?”

“You’re all i imagined.” She was breathy against his mouth, and he stilled just enough for her to know that he finally got the point, but kept kissing her. She kept talking, against his mouth. “It was always you. Your hands on me, your mouth on me, you hair under my fingers and your cock. You were all i imagined.”

“So when you came in here, how pent up you were, that was all for me. All of this, all for me huh?” She nodded against his shoulder. “What do you need, Clarke? Do you need anything else? Tell me what you need.” She smiled into his skin again.

“I told you already, Bellamy. I _just need you_.” She slid her hands down his torso, finding his waistband, unhooking the button and sliding down his zipper, reaching into his pants and wrapping her hands around him through his boxers. He was hard as a rock, and her touch was enough to make him pulse against her hand, hot. Even oversensitive and spent, she felt herself clench around nothing at the idea of him. He let her pull him free from his pants, and slicked himself up with his spit, finding her centre easily, lining up and pressing into her, slow, so slow it was torturous, until he was finally all the way inside her, still kissing her, still whispering soft and filthy things into her ears, and they just stayed, motionless for a moment, almost as if the weight of the moment was pressing them into the table. When he finally started to move, shallow thrusts into her, she could barely contain her feelings, with his skin pressed into her, his hand coming to her breast and finding a nipple through her tank top, his mouth on hers, and on her jaw and on her neck and on her shoulder, the way he was everywhere, all around her, the smell of him and the feeling of him, and she felt herself crest again, so gentle it almost wasn’t real, but she felt it, and he felt it.

“So pretty when you come around me, so beautiful. you feel so good, do you think we can get another one? Do you think we can make you feel good again Clarke?” The way he said "we" made her heart jump in her chest. He slid a hand down to find her clit, throbbing from the attention, and just pressed into it, barely moving at all, meeting her thrust for thrust until he fell apart himself, stuttering and loosing his rhythm, but he kept his fingers on her clit until she stuttered over the edge one last time, so much that her body barely know how to respond, just shaking and trembling and holding him close, gasping into his ear and whispering things she probably would regret in the morning, things about how much she _loved him needed him wanted him missed him_. He found her lips again and kissed her until the last aftershock shook through her, leaving her entirely boneless. He brought his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks and kissing her soft, barely a press of his lips at all, over and over again. He slid out of her, tucking himself back into his jeans, and grabbed her underwear, sliding them back on, lifting her hips from the table to get them in place, and pulling her jeans on. She tried to sit up and dress herself, but he pressed her back into the table, whispering “let me take care of you, Clarke.” He slid her boots on, and buttoner her pants, finally tugging her up and helping her stand. The realisation of their act washed over her, but before it could take root and become a vile thing, he grabbed her face again, and kissed her soundly, pouring his feelings into it. She reached up and held his forearms.

“I missed you too, Clarke. More than you can even imagine.” He brushed the tips of their noses together, and took her hand to lead her to the door, flipping the lock. He waited a second, as if opening the door would let back in all of the things the rest of the world expected from them. Like maybe they could stay in this little room forever, and just be Bellamy and Clarke. But that was unreasonable. That was irrational. She reached out and put her hand on the handle, unable to bring herself to turn it. They stood there a moment, holding hands, next to each other, still in the night. He pressed a kiss into her temple, and reached his free hand over to cover hers on the handle, turning it with her. The door opened, and nothing changed. The world didn’t rush in and demand an answer. This thing they had done, this shift they had made together, it was still theirs. They walked the hall to the point where they needed to part, her to her tent, him to relieve Harper. She smiled at him.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” She whispered to him.

“Anytime, Princess.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and let their fingers untangle as she walked towards her tent. She turnedjust in time to see him turn back, and the notion of them both wanting one last minute before the spell broke made her heart ache in all the best ways. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, and she turned to go. They would figure it out. They always figured it out. She made it back to her tent, and curled up, finally tired, finally spent, and the image of his hand over hers on the handle crowded into her mind, and one word repeated over and over, like a melody that lulled her to sleep.

_Together_.

**Author's Note:**

> i've never written smut before so please be kind to me! Title from Sex by The 1975 because obviously.


End file.
